Just Let the Mice In
by flash-faker
Summary: Nick is in trouble and his friends devise a plan to help. It's not a perfect plan, but it's the best they can do in a limited period of time. Warning: non-con.
1. Chapter 1

This story takes place at some imaginary time after "One Angry Fuchsbau." and may have spoilers for that episode and any previous episode. The rest of the second season may very well render this story an AU.

WARNING: there is non-consensual sex in this story. If this is likely to disturb you, please do not read.

Nick/Monroe is the main pairing in this story because the main interaction is about or between Nick and Monroe, but there is very strong Monroe/Rosalee and Nick/Juliette.

Also, in spite of the title, there are no mice or Mauzhertz in this story.

**Just Let the Mice In**

Monroe stepped into the hallway and gently closed the door to his bedroom behind him. He turned to Rosalee. "How long will the sedative last?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "It would be a couple of hours for you, so normally I would think it should be longer, because he's not as big and he's not a blutbad, but whatever he was given was very potent. I think we should expect it to counteract the sedative sooner than later."

Monroe raised his hand to her face and lightly touched the bruise that was blooming on her right cheek. "We have to figure this out. If he comes at you again, I might kill him."

"He just caught me off guard. He obviously has no idea what he's doing. And I know that you would never hurt Nick."

"You know I would never _want_ to hurt him, but Rosalee, it seemed like…"

"He was trying to rape me?"

"Yeah… what would make him do that?"

"He attacked you the same way—ripping at your clothes, and…"

"Biting my face? Yeah, I remember. So you think someone gave him a non-discriminating compulsory rape drug?"

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't have much information about grimms, just wesen. After all, most grimms, or the ones we used to hear about, would have just killed me and shut down the shop, not asked for remedies. What about Nick's books? In the trailer?"

"From what I've seen of them, they're only about wesen. His ancestors didn't write much about themselves."

"It doesn't matter. I don't think we have enough time to go to the trailer. What about his mother? Is there any way to get a hold of her?"

Monroe hurried down the stairs to the living room with Rosalee close behind him. Monroe picked up Nick's jacket off the floor and pulled Nick's cell phone from one of the pockets. He scrolled through the mail program until he found the most recent message from Nick's mother (blutb4d5bane dated the week before). She never wrote from the same address more than a couple of times. "We can e-mail her," he said. "What should we say?"

Rosalee transferred some cushions from the floor to the couch and sat down. "Something short and to the point. How about 'call ASAP'?."

Monroe typed the message into Nick's phone and sent it. "Okay, I hope she checks her e-mail on a regular basis. What now?"

"We wait," Rosalee said and looked around the living room. "And maybe pick up a little. I hope nothing important got broken."

"I moved the most valuable clocks to the attic a while ago. Ever since Nick barged into my life, things have gotten a lot more…"

"Dangerous? Destructive? Unpredictable?" Rosalee asked.

"And any other related adjective Roget has to offer." Monroe sat down next to Rosalee.

Rosalee rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you ever wish you had stopped letting him in?" she asked.

"The thought has definitely crossed my mind two or three times a week since I met him," he sighed, "but it never stays for long. He'd have been dead within a week and…"

"You care about him," she stated.

"Well, yeah, of course I do. He's important to me." He looked over at her. "Almost as important as you are." Rosalee smiled.

The phone in Monroe's hand lit up and rang. "It might be her," he said. "Do you want to answer? I think she might like you better. I mean, you didn't call her a bitch _and_ she let you hug her."

Rosalee took the phone. "Hello?"

"Who's this?"

"This is Rosalee Calvert. Is this Mrs. Burkhardt?"

"What's happened to Nick?"

"We aren't sure. That's why we e-mailed you."

"Where is he?"

"He's here, but we had to sedate him. He was out of control, we didn't know what else to do."

"Tell me everything."

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Monroe got up to fetch a pen and paper for Rosalee then paced behind the couch until she glared at him to stop. He went upstairs and listened at the door of his bedroom to determine if Nick was moving around. He wasn't. Finally he settled at the top of the stairs, close enough to hear if Nick woke up and close enough to still hear Rosalee's dismayed exclamations but not the content of what she might be saying. He was sure it wasn't good. Things sometimes worked out well for Nick on the cop end of things, but his personal life had pretty much been a disaster as long as Monroe had known him—all that lying and hiding, and then Juliette's forgetting and obsessing and remembering.

It had only been a couple of months since Juliette had remembered everything, including Nick telling her about wesen and being a grimm. She believed him this time around but was still adjusting—and asking a lot of questions. He, Rosalee and Bud had all been requested to play show and tell. She wanted to know how much wesen had in common with other non-human animals, which was understandable given her occupation, but Monroe didn't always appreciate being treated like a walking, talking laboratory specimen. Most other matters seemed to be settling between Nick and Juliette, which, by Monroe's reckoning, meant it was probably time for things to start going to hell.

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NOTE:  
The title of this story comes from the following quote from the artist and writer, Brion Gysin: _"Basically, if you can find a way to stop tending the structure and just let the mice in, something much more... something nice is going to happen."_


	2. Chapter 2

WARNING: there is non-consensual sex in this story. If this is likely to disturb you, please do not read.

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"Nick? Nick! You have got to get up, man."

Nick became aware of hot skin and sweat and the metallic taste of blood. He opened his eyes. As his vision cleared, he became aware that he was lying on top of Monroe.

"Dude, you're heavy." With a huff, Monroe rolled Nick off of him.

Nick shot up into a sitting position. "What happened? Why are we…?"

"On the floor? Naked?" Monroe narrowed his eyes. "You don't remember?"

Nick looked Monroe over. He had a split lip, bite marks on his neck and chest, and a blood smear on his thigh. Images came to him: Juliette pushing him away from her, his desperate drive to Monroe's house, Rosalee in full Fuchsbau, Monroe pulling him away from Rosalee and holding him down on the couch, and then—knocking Monroe to the floor, dragging him, lunging on top of him, and forcing his way into him, over and over.

Nick scrambled away from Monroe. "I raped you," he gasped.

"No," Monroe said, "you didn't know what you were doing, and I let you."

"You let me?"

"Look, it was the only thing we could come up with. It was only going to get worse. Someone would have gotten hurt."

"_You_ got hurt."

Monroe looked down at himself and grimaced. "I'll be fine. I knew what to expect. I came in prepared." He looked at Nick. "I'm sorry, I know you didn't want this, neither did I, but we didn't have time to come up with another plan."

"You keep saying we."

"Yeah, we, the usual we. Me, Rosalee, Hank,…Juliette."

"Juliette?"

"Would you rather it had been her? You would have hurt her. Or some random person on the street. Do you understand? It had to be me. I'm the strongest of all of us. I could have stopped you if I had to."

"Why didn't you?"

"It only would have delayed things. You had to have intercourse with a living person. We had to let it run its course. That's what your mother said."

"My mother?"

"Yeah, we e-mailed her…" Monroe trailed off. "Look, can we talk about this later? I promise that we'll explain everything. And you can explain what you did and who you came into contact with before…all this." He rose shakily to his feet and shuffled over to the closet. He took the robe hanging on the door and put it on. "Why don't you go ahead and shower here? I can use the downstairs bathroom. There are fresh towels under the sink. And a new toothbrush in the cabinet. I'll bring you some clean clothes, I think you left a few things in the guest room. I need to let everyone know we're okay. Okay?"

"Thanks…" Nick rose slowly from the floor. "Are they here?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, we asked Hank to come as back up in case you got past me and Juliette wouldn't stay away. She was worried about you."

Nick's eyes widened in panic. He looked like he wanted to run.

Monroe started towards him. "Man, I'm sorry. I know it's a lot."

"Stop saying that." Nick backed away from Monroe. "That you're sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for." He turned quickly and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Monroe gathered together a fresh set of clothes. He took several deep and calming breaths and stepped into the hallway.

Hank and Rosalee had been sitting at the top of the stairs where Monroe had sat only a couple of hours earlier. They stood up immediately.

"Monroe!" Rosalee cried. She rushed to hug him. He held up his hand to stop her.

"Please…just wait. I need to clean up first."

She pulled back and looked at him, kindness and concern in her eyes. "You're hurt."

"I'm okay…mostly."

"And Nick?" Hank asked.

"Physically…okay, but he's pretty shaken and confused." Monroe replied. "Right now, he's in the bathroom. Um, he still has some clothes up in the guest room. Will you get them and bring them to him?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll do that," Hank kept looking at him. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Monroe shook his head. "I just really need a shower." He moved slowly and deliberately past them and down the stairs.

Hank and Rosalee looked after him and then at each other.

"I'll get Nick's clothes, I know where they are," Rosalee said. "But you should bring them in to him. Okay?"

"Yeah," Hank agreed and leaned heavily against the wall. The last couple of hours had been some of the weirdest of his life—waiting outside of a room where his partner was sexually assaulting his friend by his friend's consent in order to keep his partner from attacking anyone else. This magic business was nasty. He'd bet his badge that a hexenbiest was involved.


	3. Chapter 3

WARNING: there is non-consensual sex referred to in this chapter. If this is likely to disturb you, please do not read.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, Nick cautiously opened the bathroom door and peeked out. Hank was sitting on the bed with a bundle of clothes on his lap. He stood up when he saw Nick.

"Here," Hank said. "Rosalee got these for you." He handed Nick a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of boxer shorts.

"Thanks," Nick said. "I'll just put them on."

"Yeah, you do that, take your time."

Nick closed the door again and started to dress. He'd left some clothes at Monroe's house when he moved back in with Juliette. He didn't want to be overly confident about his relationship with her. He also knew that at some point he and Monroe would have an adventure that would require him to need a change of clothes. He just never imagined anything like this.

When he came out of the bathroom again, Hank was still there, but now he was lifting a lamp off the floor and putting it on the bedside table.

"You doing okay?" Hank asked.

"Um, I…don't really know," Nick responded. "I feel like you should arrest me."

"None of this is your fault."

Nick scoffed. "It doesn't feel that way." He looked around the room. The bed was made up, untouched. It seemed incongruous with what had just happened in the room, all of which had happened on the floor. His t-shirt and boxer shorts lay haphazardly by the closet. He crossed the room to retrieve them. They were both ripped. He stared at them in his hands, reliving for a moment the frenzy he had felt.

Suddenly, Hank was next to him, holding up a waste paper basket. "Just put those here," he said. Nick dropped the ruined clothes into the basket which Hank put down by the desk.

"Listen," Hank said, "do you have any idea who did this to you? Or how? Your mother told Rosalee that it was probably some kind of potion—injected or sprayed or ingested? Anything like that happen?"

"The last thing I remember was being in the parking garage under the station, I got to my car, and…" Nick rubbed at the side of his neck. "Someone jumped me. I remember a sharp pain. They might have injected something into my neck."

"Do you remember anything about them?"

"Not much. Wait, I grabbed something…where are my…?" He saw his bluejeans folded neatly on a chair in the corner. They looked so innocent. He picked them up slowly. "Did you put these here?"

"What? No, I think Monroe must have taken them off of you while you were sedated." Hank said.

"Why?"

"We all knew what was going to happen, Nick. I think he figured, the fewer things in the way, the fewer things ruined."

"Oh." Nick said. He thought of the blood on Monroe's thigh. The blood on his own dick that he'd washed off in the shower.

"Nick, hey," Hank said and gently touched his shoulder.

He shook his head. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright." From one of the front pockets of his jeans, he pulled out a piece of jewelry.

"Did you get that off the attacker?"

"Yeah, I think it was on her wrist."

"Her?"

He looked at the bracelet, a finely woven gold chain linking together eight small colored stones. "Probably, given the choice of accessories." He handed the bracelet to Hank.

Hank looked at it closely. "There could be some marks on the stones. We should let Monroe look at it with his special magnifying glass thing. See if there's anything there."

Nick paused at the use of Monroe's name and nodded. "That's a good idea."

"Am I right that we're going to be investigating this without the official aid of the department? I'm thinking this is a wesen thing. According to your mother, a potion like that could only have worked on a grimm."

"Did you _all_ talk to my mother?"

"No, just Rosalee, I think."

"Oh, okay."

"She'll probably call to check on you sometime tonight."

"Great," Nick said. "'Hi Mom, thanks for helping. I just raped my best friend.'"

"Hey, I know it feels that way to you and I can't imagine what that's like, but that is not how any of us see things," Hank said. "You were the one that had no choice."

Nick sat down in the chair in the corner and put his face in his hands. "It doesn't sound like he had much of a choice either."

"The alternative of you turning into a violent sex-crazed madman that I would have to shoot was not an option. You have got to believe that we chose the path of least destruction."

Nick looked up at Hank. "I am grateful for that, I am. It's just…"

There was a quiet knock and a voice called through the door. "Hank? Nick? Are you guys alright?"

Nick sucked in a breath. "Juliette."

"Do you need a minute?" Hank asked.

"No, no, I uh…" Nick stood up. "Let her in."

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"Hi," Juliette said.

"Hi," Nick said.

"I'm just going to…" Hank gestured at the door. "I bet Rosalee needs help downstairs." He left without waiting for a reply.

"So, are you alright?" Juliette asked and shook her head. "I know…that's such a stupid question."

"I'm…Did you?" Nick waved his arm towards the floor where he had recently awoken on top of Monroe, then jerked it back to his side, when he realized what he was doing.

"Know what was going to happen?" Juliette asked.

Nick nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I was against it at first, obviously, it seemed so horrible. I knew you would hate it. I hate it, but we were running out of time and the picture your mother painted of what would happen was so much worse, Nick. And you had already attacked Rosalee…"

"Is she hurt? I think I might have hit her."

"No, well, she has a bruise on her face, but she's fine."

Nick felt paralyzed with shame. He looked into Juliette's eyes. There was sorrow and determination there. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, you were more aggressive than usual. It was alarming, but you didn't try to force me. When I pushed you away, you just ran out of the house. I called Hank, but I should have known that you'd come here first. "

"I hoped they could help me. I shouldn't have put them in danger."

"Nick, they did help you, I don't know that anyone else could have."

"How can you be okay with this?" Nick cried.

Juliette pulled Nick into an embrace. "No one is okay with this, but we'll get through it, we will."

Nick clung to her and wept.

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Nick pulled away from Juliette and wiped his eyes. "Sorry," he said.

Juliette gave him a slight smile and brushed his cheek. "Why don't you go rinse your face? We can go home soon if you want, or do you want to talk to Monroe before we…"

"No, uh, yeah, I'll go…" He went into the bathroom.

When he came out, Juliette was standing near the door to the hallway. "Rosalee just brought your phone, it's your Mom." She handed the phone out to him. "I'll be downstairs," she said and walked out of the room.

Nick took a deep breath, sank down into the chair in the corner, and put the phone to his ear. "Mom?"

"I'm here. I'm so glad to hear your voice."

He exhaled forcefully. "Mom," he said again.

"Oh, sweetie," she said. He struggled to hold back tears.

After a long moment, he asked, "What was that potion? Why would someone give it to me? Did they want me to assault somebody?"

"Yes, in a way. It's an ancient formula. It was devised by the Royals."

"Of course, it was."

"They would give it to grimms under their command if they felt the grimms hadn't produced enough offspring. They wanted to guarantee the line."

"By making them rape someone."

"No, not originally. It was meant to be given to the grimm in controlled circumstances. The potion not only increased desire but also the chances of conception. Sex usually took place within minutes of entering the system. If it was delayed for some reason, though, the person would become increasingly aggressive and would try to mate with anyone."

"So someone wants me to have children?"

"Maybe. We aren't sure. They also might be trying to punish you and the people closest to you."

"It worked," he said.

"It didn't," she said. "You and your friends are still alive. It could have been much worse." She continued, without giving him a chance to protest. "I spoke to Hank. Do you remember anything else about the person who attacked you?"

"Not much. Long, dark hair. Black cowboy boots. And that bracelet. Do you think the Royals might be involved?"

"It's either the Royals or someone that has worked closely with them. That potion was not common knowledge. Could your captain have orchestrated this?"

"If he did, I can't imagine what his motives would be. I don't trust him, but we have been working well together."

"Try and find out. I'll see if I can get anything from here."

"Where are you?"

"Best you not know. Look more into that bracelet. I'll be in touch soon."

"Mom," he said. He didn't want her to go. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Nicky," she replied and hung up.

Nick sat staring at the phone until its light went off, then stood up. He was ready to be home now, away from this room. Unfortunately, he first had to go downstairs, find his shoes, his jacket, and Juliette. He was hoping to get out of the house without encountering Monroe or Rosalee. He owed them his attention and gratitude, but he was wrung out. He needed a little space. Maybe he could face them tomorrow or next week sometime or never.


	4. Chapter 4

WARNING: there is non-consensual sex referred to in this chapter. If this is likely to disturb you, please do not read.

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Nick stood at Monroe's front door taking slow, steady breaths and studying the stained glass window. He'd never taken the time before. It was really very cool. Just as he was thinking about knocking, the door opened.

"I wondered if I would ever see you again," Monroe said and smiled. "Come on in, man. Do you want a beer?"

Nick walked through the door, feeling trepidation and wonder, much as he had almost two years before, when Monroe had first invited him in.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I was on my way to the kitchen when I caught your scent." Monroe pulled two pale ales out of the refrigerator and handed one to Nick. "What brings you here at half past one in the morning?"

"I'm sorry about the time, I'm just…" Nick looked up into Monroe's eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't…"

"Hey, hey, none of that. I knew you needed some space."

"I keep having dreams," Nick looked down. "About that night."

"Yeah, I've had a few of those myself. Come on," Monroe said. "Let's sit on the couch. I'm too tired for all this standing."

They settled on the couch several feet apart and sipped their beers.

"Rosalee and Juliette have been talking, you know," Monroe said.

"I know. Juliette said that you'd asked Rosalee for a little space."

"Yeah, well, sort of. I still talk to her at least three times a day."

"Are you okay?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, oh yeah, just a little unsettled."

"Did I hurt you?" Nick blurted out.

"What? No, I'm fine."

"There was blood," Nick said.

"Well, yeah, a little bit. I don't really, you know, do that all that often."

"Have you before?"

"This isn't really the kind of stuff we tend to talk about, but just this once, maybe we should."

"No, you don't have to tell me. I shouldn't have asked."

"Listen Nick, let me say this, and then we can never talk about it again." Monroe set his beer on the coffee table and turned towards him. "As you know, blutbaden are naturally aggressive. They bring the same kind of enthusiasm to sex as they do to dinner. What you and I did was terrible because you had no say, but the actual physical act, compared to what Angelina and I used to get up to, was like picking daisies.

"And," Monroe continued. "I prepared myself before I went in there." At Nick's confused glance, he added, "Lube, dude."

"Oh…oh, good," Nick said and laughed.

"And that's it for the too much information part of this discussion," Monroe said, "but I just wanted you to know that you did _not_ hurt me. The hard, or you know, difficult, part for me was keeping control so that I didn't hurt _you._ Understand?"

Nick nodded. He felt like crying again. That had been happening a lot lately.

"What about you?" Monroe asked. "I can't imagine this has been easy."

"Logically, I know that it wasn't my fault, but I keep having dreams where I attack you, or Juliette or…I feel like a monster," Nick said.

"Well, I have helped you bury a few bodies," Monroe said.

"That's not helping."

Monroe sighed. "You're a grimm, Nick—a weirdly gentle, mostly non-violent one—but still a grimm, which means you are sometimes absolutely terrifying. However, you are not a rapist and you would never hurt your friends. That wasn't you, it was the potion."

"I don't really remember much detail," Nick said, "just the overwhelming need. That total lack of control, it scared me."

"I know the feeling," Monroe said. "I've been having a little trouble of my own with control…"

"Do you know why?"

"I have an idea."

Nick waited. "Anything that you want to share?"

Monroe looked sidelong at him and sighed. "I used to have a schedule: Coffee, Pilates, Breakfast, Clock Work or Cello, Lunch, Clock Work or Cello or some other detail-heavy/high-attention activity, dinner, television, meditation, and sleep. Repeat. There were some deviations, involving fire dancers and such, but not many. Then you came bursting through my door."

Monroe held up his hand to stop Nick from interrupting. "At some point, I realized that I was doing okay with control even with the messed up schedule. I think helping you gave me like an incentive to stay good, you know? But it was more than that. I think you help to ground me."

"Like how?"

"I'm not sure. I'm just used to you being around a lot, like every couple of days, asking questions, imbibing my beverages."

"Why are you keeping Rosalee away?"

"I didn't want to risk hurting her. And these last couple of weeks…I've just been struggling. I've had to go back to a stricter schedule, which helps, but my sleep's been really off."

"Because_ I_ haven't been here?" Nick said.

"In part. There's no reason to be smug about it."

"I'm not…," Nick protested.

Monroe leaned back on the couch and rolled his head to look at Nick. "Are you through needing space?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Good." They sat quietly for awhile. When they both had finished their beers and put their bottles down, Monroe said. "I know we don't usually do this, but I think we should hug."

"Okay," Nick said.

"Okay," Monroe said. He moved closer to Nick on the couch, and opened his arms.

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Nick felt something rubbing softly against his head. He felt so warm and comfortable and safe. He didn't want to open his eyes, so he lay there and listened and sensed his surroundings. His cheek, he realized, was resting on Monroe's flannel-clad chest. They were still on Monroe's couch. He heard Monroe sniff. "Are you smelling me?" he asked.

"Umm, yes."

"Is it part of the me grounding you thing that you were talking about?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he said and opened his eyes. The morning light was just barely filtering through the curtains. He slowly shifted off of Monroe and sat up. "Sorry I fell asleep on you."

Monroe looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "Best sleep I've had in awhile."

"Yeah," Nick said, "me, too."

Monroe maneuvered his way around Nick and rose from the couch. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "Are you staying for breakfast?"

"Just coffee," Nick said.

"Okay, but you'll be missing out on my spelt, carrot, and walnut muffins."

"Exactly," Nick said and followed Monroe to the kitchen.

"Does Juliette know you're here?"

"I woke her up at midnight from another nightmare, and she told me to leave and not come back until I'd talked to you."

"Oh, I see. So you only came under threat."

"That's not it. It was stupid, I just felt so sick and embarrassed and I didn't know…how to start."

Monroe nodded as he poured the coffee beans into the grinder. "And how do you feel now?"

"Better, a lot better." Nick said.

"Good," Monroe said and turned on the grinder.


	5. Chapter 5

WARNING: there is non-consensual sex referred to in this chapter. If this is likely to disturb you, please do not read.

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Nick leaned against the counter, sipping what might be the best coffee in Portland, and watched Monroe putter around the kitchen. He could hear the many sounds of the awakening neighborhood amidst the morning chatter of the birds outside the window. Finally, Monroe picked up his own mug of coffee and leaned against the chopping block. He looked over at Nick and smiled slightly, looking satisfied. Nick smiled back.

"So," Monroe said, "The last time I talked to Hank, he said you guys hadn't gotten very far in finding out who attacked you."

"No, we haven't. And we've both been caught up in this big trafficking case at work. I haven't been able to spend much time on it."

"Did Hank tell you that I really didn't find much out about that bracelet except that it was beautifully handcrafted?"

"Yeah, he did. A lot of people have handcrafted jewelry."

"I did take it to a lapidary that I know to get the stones identified."

"And?"

"Well, I don't know, I've been talking to Rosalee about it. Sometimes stones are used in wesen medicine."

"These stones were in a bracelet though, doesn't it seem more likely that they were just a fashion accessory?"

"Probably." Monroe shrugged. He looked out the window at the birds flitting through the tree branches. "I might go see her today."

"Rosalee?"

"Yeah," Monroe said.

"Are you…feeling more settled?" Nick asked.

Monroe nodded slowly and glanced back at Nick. "I think I am."

"Good. That's good," Nick said.

"There was something else I thought of," Monroe said. "Hank said that someone snuck up behind you in the parking garage, but that didn't seem very likely to me. I mean, you're a grimm, you're hard to sneak up on. Is there a chance that they could have jumped you from above?"

"Like a geier?"

"Yeah, maybe, I know there weren't any trees….geier aren't the only wesen that like high places."

"There are metal braces and conduit on the ceiling; someone could have held themselves up there and waited for me to get to my car." Nick shook his head. "After they tackled me and injected the potion, I got up immediately, but I was so focused on getting home to Juliette, I didn't even look around me, much less above me. The potion was probably already affecting me. My mother said that it was fast-acting."

"Potions that do horrible things often point to hexenbiests."

"Hexenbiests aren't really known for their climbing abilities, but they have been known to work with royalty. Hank has really been pushing the hexenbiest angle."

"Well, who could blame him? Did you rule out Renard as being part of this? I mean, he is the only royal we know."

"I don't think he had anything to do with it. In fact, he seemed genuinely alarmed that there was an attack on me that he didn't know about. I don't think he likes the idea of someone else trying to play me. He's letting us use department resources to unofficially investigate and he's doing some research of his own—tracing the potion and trying to find out how who could have known about it. _He _didn't know about it."

"So, wesen jumping from high places, maybe hexenbeists, maybe royalty, and a bracelet. That's a lot of possible avenues."

"Yeah, and there's another one," Nick said. "Juliette and I were talking and we think it's likely that they knew that I had someone to go home to—that maybe they'd been watching me."

"So, you think they were expecting or hoping that you and Juliette would have sex and she would get pregnant, that pregnancy was the goal?"

"It makes more sense than giving me a potion so that I would go around raping people, just to punish me. If the goal was to make me suffer, there are lot of other ways to go about it."

"Do you think they might have followed you home to...you know, make sure you did the deed?

"I don't know. I was pretty single-minded by that time, and even more so by time I headed to your house. I wouldn't have noticed if a whole gang of siegbarste were following me. I haven't noticed anyone following me since then."

"It seems like a pretty sloppy plan. I mean, were they going to wait around for nine months to steal the baby?"

"I don't know, but it's a good thing there isn't one," Nick said. "Thanks to you." Their eyes met, intense and knowing. For a moment Nick remembered the heat of Monroe's skin and the strong musky scent of sex. He felt a surge of shame and then of panic. He looked at the clock and put his mug in the sink. "I have to go."

"Yeah, of course," Monroe said, "thanks for coming by."

Nick paused and made himself take a deep breath. He looked again at Monroe and a different kind of shame arose—that he had wanted to get away, to run, from this person—this dear, amazing person. He reached out and grasped Monroe's shoulder. "Thank you for everything," Nick said.

"You'll be back?" Monroe asked and Nick could see the fear and uncertainty in his face.

"Yes," Nick said. "Every few days to ask questions and imbibe your beverages."

Monroe gave a relieved sigh.

"I'm sorry I didn't come over sooner," Nick said.

"Hey…it's okay. I was only a _little_ worried…that you might be gone for good. Rosalee said that Juliette said that you weren't, but…"

"Juliette wants to know if you guys want to come over for dinner sometime."

"Yeah, I'd love that. We'd love that." Monroe followed Nick to the front door.

"Great. I'll tell her." Nick stepped out onto the porch and turned back to Monroe.

"Let me know if you and Rosalee come up with anything," he said and walked to his car. After putting the key in the ignition, he paused, rested his head on the steering wheel, and concentrated on his breathing. He let the memories from his sexual encounter with Monroe flow through his mind: He held Monroe's wrists to the floor and surged forward. Monroe pushed up to meet him, his fingers clenched at Nick's waist. Monroe hadn't resisted; if anything, he had coaxed and encouraged. There had been no fear in Monroe's eyes, just determination, to get them both through. And he had. They were okay. They would be okay.

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The last two weeks had been stressful. Nick had barely been sleeping, so Juliette had barely been sleeping. He hadn't been eating. He was harried, edgy, and disturbingly timid. He seesawed between clinging to her and keeping her at arms length; intimacy beyond these desperate embraces had been limited to kisses on the cheek. It was all completely understandable and completely exhausting. She hadn't been able to bring herself to suggest that he sleep on the couch, but she was not sure how long they could keep doing this. It was testimony, she thought, to both of their frustration that she had issued her ultimatum and he hadn't protested; he had just gotten dressed and left. She had briefly considered feeling guilty about it, but instead, flopped down on the pillow and fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

Juliette took a sip of the ginger, cinnamon, and cayenne blend that Rosalee had concocted for her and sighed. It was Saturday, she had no place she had to be. She was just beginning to wonder what she should do with her day when Nick walked through the front door. Smiling.

"Hey," he said, still smiling.

"Hi," Juliette said and smiled back. "You talked to Monroe?"

"I talked to Monroe."

"And?"

"And…things are okay."

"I told you."

"I know. I just had to…be stubborn."

"You have a lot to process. How's Monroe?"

"Okay."

"Did he talk to you about Rosalee?" she asked.

"What about Rosalee?"

"About why he hasn't seen her in a week?"

"Some…," Nick said. "I think he's going to see her today."

"Well, that's good," Juliette said, "and what about you? I haven't seen you smile…and now you can't seem to stop."

Nick smiled again and shrugged. "You were right…I feel better. I'm going to get a shower. Do you want to go to brunch? I'm hungry."

"Wow, I would love to. I just need to change."

Nick took her hand and pulled her up into an embrace. "I don't know, I think you look great in your pajamas," he said and kissed her fully on the mouth.

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Monroe and Rosalee sat side by side in the small seating area in the corner of the shop. His leg pressed lightly against her knee. On the table was a vase full of dahlias, delphiniums and foxgloves that Monroe had brought; both he and the bouquet had been well received. Monroe took a small bag out of his jacket pocket, pulled out a bracelet, and handed it to Rosalee.

She examined it. "It's beautiful. I'm glad to see it after talking about it for the last week. The clasp is broken."

"Yeah, that probably happened when Nick grabbed it off the person who attacked him who may or may not have been a woman," Monroe said. "Have you found anything?"

"Well, those books over there are the ones I've already looked through." She pointed to a stack of about a dozen books, some of which were very large. "Most of them have chapters on using stones to enhance or augment certain remedies. A couple of them are more general, they give descriptions of different stones and their properties." Rosalee ran her fingers over the individual stones. "All of these stones have powers of protection, strength, resiliency, that sort of thing."

"She or he might just be into some New Age philosophy. Nick thinks we might be barking up an empty tree."

Rosalee ran her fingers over the individual stones. "Maybe," she said. "There are four kinds of stones, two of each. Fire agate is found only in the United States and Mexico, Oregon sunstone can only be found in Oregon, although it is sold other places. Turquoise and obsidian has sources all over the world, but they were both very important in pre-Columbian cultures."

"You think there might be a New World connection? We had assumed European with the Royals and all."

"It's possible. I mean, Nick is right, it might not mean anything. Holding this bracelet, though, I can feel the power in it, it's strong. Somebody knew what they were doing putting these stones together. I want to keep looking, just in case."

"Well, I would be happy to help. I don't have any other plans today."

Rosalee smiled and stood up. "The books on that stool are the ones I haven't been through yet. Do you want some coffee?"

"Absolutely," Monroe said, picked up the book on the top of the stack, _Gemstones: Power and Protection_, and leaned back into the chair's cushion. He was glad to see Rosalee again—it had only been eight days, but he had missed her. Hopefully, his many issues were under control now that he and Nick had finally reconnected. He didn't want to stay away.

Rosalee came back with two steaming mugs. She set them on the table and sat down. "Things must have gone well with Nick," she said.

Monroe looked up from his book. He picked up one of the mugs and smelled it before taking a sip. "Yeah, we talked…and hugged. He seems okay."

"He came to see me last week."

"Yeah? You didn't tell me. Neither did he, for that matter."

"He mainly came to apologize which was not necessary, of course. I didn't blame him, but it was obvious he blamed himself. I didn't want you to feel bad because he hadn't contacted you."

Monroe nodded. "I think we're okay now…mostly. I hope this whole thing can just blow over."

Rosalee put her hand over his and squeezed before picking up the next book in the stack. It was older than most of Freddy's books. Her aunt had given to her before she had returned to Portland, she said it had belonged to Rosalee's grandmother. There was no title and the leather cover was embossed with an intricate design of flowers and feathers and fruit.

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Nick was stretched out on the couch with his head in Juliette's lap. "I think I'm in a hollandaise stupor," he said.

"It's been awhile since I've seen you eat that much food," Juliette said. "Your body's probably in shock."

Nick's phone rang. He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket. "Rosalee?" he said half into the phone and half into Juliette's thigh.

He lay there listening to her and then suddenly sat up. His entire body was tense. "Okay," he said, "I'll be right there." He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch. "Rosalee and Monroe found something…related to the potion that was used on me. I'm going over to the spice shop."

Juliette stood up, as well. "I'm going with you. I'm as interested in this one as you are."

"Yeah, of course, let's go."

When they arrived at the spice shop, Rosalee and Monroe were sitting amongst several piles of books, a couple of mugs, and a huge bouquet of flowers. They both looked up.

"So, what did you find?" Nick asked.

Rosalee held up the book in her lap and gestured for them to come closer. "This potion calls for the 'product of a coupling with a grimm,' that is, the fetus between 4 and 6 weeks after conception."

Nick stared at her. "That's why they wanted me to get someone pregnant?"

"Well, we don't know for sure," Rosalee said, "but it's one possibility."

"What does the potion do?" Juliette asked.

"It increases the power of a small group of wesen, up to about fifty, and protects them. It makes them invulnerable."

Juliette was looking over Rosalee's shoulder. "What is this book? It seems really old."

"It was my grandmother's," Rosalee said. "It seems to be hand bound and the illustrations are original. It's more like a journal, like Nick's books."

"What are the illustrations? Do you know?" Nick asked.

"As far as I can tell," Rosalee said, "they're decorative, lots of flowers, insects, and birds. Like illustrated manuscripts." She handed the book to Juliette and stood up. "Have a seat, I've been sitting for too long."

Juliette sat down and looked closely at the page with the potion recipe. There was a full-color drawing of a bird sitting on a branch. The bird had blue-green plumage and a long tail that draped down the entire edge of the page. "This is a quetzal," she said.

"A quetzal?" Monroe asked. "As in quetzalcoatl?"

"It could be referring to that," Juliette said, "this looks like a serpent on the opposite page. They're usually combined, though."

"What are you guys talking about?" Nick asked.

"Quetzalcoatl was a deity worshipped in several Mesoamerican cultures before Cortés showed up," Juliette said. "The name means 'feathered serpent.'"

"That's the human version," Monroe said. "In our history, a quetzalcoatl was a kind of wesen that is now extinct, thanks to the Spaniards."

"Okay," Nick said, "then, what's the connection between this extinct wesen and this potion?"

"It could have been the Spaniards who got the potion from one of these cultures and took it back to Europe, to the Royals," Rosalee said. She then relayed to Nick and Juliette what little she had learned about the properties of the stones.

"My Mom said that the Royals used the potion to breed grimms, not to impregnate someone so that they could kill the fetus to make another potion to gain power," Nick said.

"This is getting confusing," Monroe said. "Maybe the Royals never knew about this second potion and whoever attacked Nick descends from one of these pre-Colombian cultures."

"That makes some sense," said Nick. "So, we might be looking for a small group of wesen who want to be powerful and indestructible. That narrows it down. My main concern right now is to determine their next move. If they think that either Juliette or Rosalee is pregnant…"

"Then we could be in trouble," Juliette concluded.

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NOTE: As is probably obvious, I know very little about gemstones, pre-Colombian Mesoamerican cultures, Quetzalcoatl, or non-consensual sex. This is a fiction story written with characters that do not belong to me, and should be taken with a grain of salt. Thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you to _present, pupil_, and _D Squirrel_ for their comments on this story. I hope that some other people are enjoying this story as well.

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Nick and Juliette left the spice shop with promises to and from Rosalee and Monroe to keep each other informed of any new ideas or developments. When Juliette hugged Monroe, he had looked over her shoulder at Nick. He seemed to be asking for something, for acknowledgement of Nick's promise earlier in the day.

"I'll see you soon," Nick told him before following Juliette out the door. He wondered what 'grounding' someone meant. If he was honest with himself, Monroe was somewhat of a touchstone for him as well, as were all of his friends in one way or another. He guessed that they functioned the way most people's family did. It was why he hadn't been able to let go of Juliette, she had been his family for over four years.

Later that afternoon, he called Hank and filled him in on all the different possibilities he and the others had discussed. "I was hoping you'd help me check out the parking garage where I was attacked. Like today, when there aren't as many cars around. Monroe had an idea that I might have been jumped from above."

"It seems like a long shot, but sure, I'll come along."

"Great, I'll meet you there. I'll be in Bud's truck, he let me borrow his extension ladder."

"Okay. Give me fifteen."

Nick drove to work and parked next to where he had been parked the day he had been assaulted. His hands clenched around the steering wheel for a moment. He and Monroe were alright, but the anger for being put in such a position still boiled within him and would for a long time. He got out of the truck and waited for Hank.

"Hey," Hank said as he got out of his car. He gave Nick an appraising look. "You look better. Did you actually sleep or something?"

"Or something," Nick said. "Help me set up this ladder."

"You going up?"

"Yeah."

"So what did you need me for?"

"To answer any awkward questions about why we're examining the ceiling of the parking garage."

Hank stood at the base of the ladder, while Nick poked around among the pipes and braces above him. Hank might have thought, six months ago, that no one could have held themselves up on that ceiling without the help of ropes and harnesses (of which there was no evidence), but these days he let himself float in a state of "anything's possible." It made solving crimes both harder and easier.

"A-ha!" Nick exclaimed.

"You got something?" Hank asked.

"I think so," Nick said as he slowly moved down the ladder. "It was stuck in a spider's web." He put one blue-gloved hand in front of Hank's face. Between his thumb and his forefinger, he held a green feather that shifted to blue in the light.

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The next day, Nick brought Juliette to the trailer to research the quetzalcoatl. He had decided to move the trailer after she told him that she had mentioned its existence to Adalind. This time he chose to house it in an enclosed storage facility. He put a combination lock on the storage unit and changed the lock on the trailer. For emergencies, he gave Monroe the combination and an extra key.

"Okay," Nick said. "I have at least a couple of books that concentrate on the Americas." He moved a pile of papers on the desk to reveal a large leather-bound book which he handed to Juliette. From the shelf behind the desk, he pulled another book which was little more than several sheets of heavy paper held between two boards with a couple of leather cords. "Do you want the chair or the couch?"

"Um, couch," she said and carefully sat on the cushion against the wall. This was the first time Juliette had been to the trailer since she had managed to reconstruct her memories. She had never before looked through Aunt Marie's books with any particular purpose.

Nick looked over at her. "Sorry," he said, "it's not very comfortable. I should get some better furniture in here…"

"No, this is fine," she said and opened the book in her lap. "Sometimes, I still can't believe all this. I guess you're used to it."

"I usually don't have much of a chance to think about it…Nick shrugged. "Every once in awhile someone will woge in front of me and they'll be so amazing – beautiful, even – that I have to stop myself from reaching out to touch."

"You'd probably have a few less fingers if you did," Juliette said.

Nick laughed. "Yeah, no kidding."

"Did Monroe woge…you know, when you…with the potion?" She glanced up at Nick and blushed. They had only spoken of that night in very general terms; they both knew what had happened, but they had never discussed the details.

He bent his head as if he was concentrating on the images laid out before him. "No, I don't think so…a lot of it is a blur…he was very controlled." Nick shook his head in disbelief. "He was worried about hurting me."

"He was even more worried that you would hate him."

Nick met Juliette's earnest gaze. "I could never hate him," Nick said. "He saved me. When all this grimm stuff started…" Nick shook his head again as he remembered the fear and confusion he had felt and how much he had relied on Monroe to guide him.

"I am really glad that he's been here for you."

"Me too," he said. Over the next half hour, they didn't speak. Much of Nick's book was in Spanish so he examined the pictures carefully and skimmed the writing. He didn't know Spanish very well but he could recognize some of the words. He came across a drawing of a man behind bars. What made him pause was that the man looked human.

"Oh my gosh," Juliette exclaimed. "I found it, the quetzalcoatl."

Nick stood up and moved over to Juliette. She held the book out to him. The spread showed a creature with a snake-like face and red eyes; scales on its throat, arms, and torso; feathers on its head and down the spine; and wings. The feathers were painted in blues and greens. The text was also in Spanish. "What does it say?" he asked.

"It says that the quetzalcoatl had a mesmerizing effect on humans and other wesen. They would feel compelled to do whatever the quetzalcoatl requested. I guess that explains why they were treated like gods." Juliette stood up, brushed off her lap and straightened her blouse. "Some people could learn to shake off their control and grimms were especially resistant."

Nick looked more closely at the drawing; there was a decorative band across the forehead of the creature. "Did it say anything about this headband?" he asked.

Juliette took the three steps to the desk and settled in the chair where Nick had been sitting. "Yes, I was getting to that, your ancestor thought that turquoise and obsidian might have been used to amplify or maintain their power. He wrote that the quetzalcoatl wore a lot of jewelry with those stones all over their body."

"So Rosalee was right, the stones are significant. Did it say how to kill the quetzalcoatl?"

"No, not really, it only mentioned resisting him or her, not killing them." Juliette glanced down at the book that was open on the desk. Her eyes widened. "Nick, did you read this? I think it might be about the potion."

"What?" Nick stood behind her and studied the pages from over her shoulder. "Okay, I can understand _relaciones sexuales."_

Juliette took a deep breath and began to translate the text: "While on an expedition in the new Spanish territories, I met another grimm in Villa Rica de la Vera Cruz. He was in terrible shape and had been taken in by a family of artisans. He relayed to me that he had been held captive for eight months in a rural area in the Valley of Mexico. During these months, he was brought several women to have sexual relations with, at the insistence of his captors. When he had refused, he was forced to drink a potion which would send him into such a fervor of need that he could not help himself. He eventually stopped resisting as it was less horrifying for himself and the women. Finally, one of these women helped him to escape. He never learned of the purpose of his captivity."

"It seems like someone was trying to breed grimms…"

"Or," Juliette said, "it was the quetzalcoatl trying to boost their power after the Spaniards took over."

Nick grimaced. "So, he was either a pawn or a prize stud. Poor guy." He sat down on the couch and leaned back with his eyes closed. "I should call my Mom, and we should get everyone together, go over everything we know."

Juliette got up from the desk, moved a pile of books and papers onto the floor, and sat down next to him on the so-called couch. She leaned against him and let her head rest against his shoulder. She picked up his hand and caressed his palm. "Okay," she said.

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"Wow," Monroe kept saying when Nick showed him the feather. They were at Monroe's house, seated around the small dining room table, along with Hank, Juliette, and Rosalee. "We're really dealing with a quetzalcoatl? Or is it a group of them? That's what the…fetus potion is for."

"We don't know," Nick said. "I'm pretty sure only one person attacked me in the parking garage."

"So, one or more of these…" Hank waved his hand around. "…'feathered serpents' might show up in the next week or three and …?"

"Exactly," Monroe said.

"I don't think we have much of a chance of finding them," Nick said. "We just have to wait for them to come to us. We have to be ready."

"Juliette and Rosalee should always have someone else with them," Hank said. "And how do we know they aren't going to try to dose you again?" he asked Nick.

"We don't." Nick said.

"Then you shouldn't be alone either," Hank said.

"I agree," Rosalee said, "although, Nick is the least likely to be influenced,"

"I think the stones are our best bet," Nick said. "Whether they provide some kind of power or stabilize the power they have…"

"Removing them might weaken the quetzalcoatl's influence," Rosalee said.

"It's kind of scary," Monroe said, "that we might be inclined to do whatever it is they want. I don't like the sound of that."

"You have a lot of practice resisting your own urges," Rosalee said and rubbed his arm. "you might be able to resist others."

"I hope so," Monroe said and lightly kissed the top of her head.

"If there _is_ more than one of them, I don't understand why they didn't kidnap Nick in the first place," Juliette said, "like they did to that grimm in the book."

"I've wondered that too," Monroe said. "I mean they were able to get the jump on you, they could have knocked you out with a sedative or a brick, just as easily as they could give you the sex potion. Then they could have locked you up and brought you a woman…okay, it would have been a lot more complicated. Less of a crapshoot, though, in terms of making sure that you impregnate someone."

"A missing police officer would have attracted a lot of attention," Hank said.

"They might not have wanted anyone looking for them. Their powers might be too weak, either because there's only one of them, or…," Rosalee said.

"Or they're just weak," Nick said. "Maybe their _only_ strength is the ability to influence people."

"My guess," said Rosalee, "is that they need those stones to have even a little bit of power but they want the potion to gain a lot of power all at once."

"Maybe they want to be gods again," Juliette said.

Rosalee nodded. "That makes sense."

"So, we get the stones," Hank said. "then what?"

"Then we make sure that they won't be a danger to any of us ever again." Nick glanced around the table at his friends. "That _I_ won't be a danger to any of _you_ ever again."


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you to _Ruth_ and _D Squirrel_ for their comments on the last chapter.

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"Can I ask you a personal question?" Juliette asked. She was curled up in a chair in the corner of the spice shop with the second volume of _The Anatomy and Physiology of the Canid Wesen_ on her lap. For the past week, when she wasn't at work and Nick was, she had been going to the spice shop or Monroe's house. Currently, Monroe was in the back room practicing the cello, the bittersweet tones drifting across the shop, and Rosalee was seated in the chair across from her.

"Of course," Rosalee answered. There were several jars laid out on the coffee table from which Rosalee was measuring and mixing custom tea blends. The rich, heady scents of herbs and spices, along with the music and the reading material made Juliette feel as if she was in another universe, a dream, removed from the world of reason she'd known all of her life.

"Have things been different between you and Monroe since, you know…that night with the potion?"

Rosalee raised her eyes from the small scale she was using to weigh some kind of berry. "Different?" she asked.

"Sexually?" Juliette clarified.

"Oh," Rosalee said, "um, well, they were different…right after, then we didn't see each other for eight or nine days, then he talked to Nick, and…things have been good lately. Why? Are you and NIck not…?"

"No, we are, now, he's just been really…cautious, I guess."

Rosalee nodded.

"I know," Juliette said, "it's understandable…and it's been a lot better since he and Monroe talked, or reconnected, or whatever they did." Juliette sighed. "I have to keep reminding myself that things are never going to be like they were before Aunt Marie came to Portland. Never. We're both different people than we were then. I was starting to accept the new us, you know, after I finally remembered him…and then this potion…I feel like we've had to start over again—again."

Rosalee pursed her lips and her forehead creased in concern. "Are you thinking of…?

"Leaving? No, no, I'm not. I'm just trying to…get used to the fact that I should probably never get used to anything ever again."

Rosalee laughed. "Both mine and Monroe's lives have gotten a lot more unpredictable since we met Nick…he's worth it, though."

"Yeah," Juliette said, "he is. And I know it bothers him that he's such a vortex of drama."

"He blames himself," Rosalee said and shook a jar of newly mixed herbs. She took the lid off and sniffed, added more of the dried brown pods she had crushed in the mortar, then put the lid back on and shook the contents again. "He shouldn't though, he can't help that he's a grimm."

A long plaintive note sounded loudly in the brief silence between them. It reminded Juliette simultaneously of whale song and the groan of a tree in a storm." I love it when Monroe brings his cello," Juliette said, "even when it makes me feel like crying."

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"How much longer do we have to keep doing this?" Juliette asked. She and Nick were lying down on the futon in the back room of the spice shop while Hank, Monroe and Rosalee discussed options for dinner in the other room. The five of them had been having dinner together most nights since their discoveries about the quetzalcoatl. They had been vigilant for the last three weeks; she, Rosalee and Nick almost always had someone else with them. It had been fun at first to spend time with Rosalee and Monroe and to learn about the varied wesen physiology, ailments and remedies, but Juliette was getting tired of all this togetherness. Even a break from Nick would be nice. She was ready to be home alone in her pajamas with a glass of wine and a good book.

"Well," Nick said patiently, "if the potion recipe was correct, then the quetzalcoatl only have another week of opportunity to get the fetus that doesn't exist, and then…"

"And then?"

"I want us to keep a lookout for another week or so just in case."

"So, another two weeks." Juliette sighed. "Or so."

"I know it's a pain in the ass and that we're all getting tired of each other, but…I want to make sure that you're safe, that we all are."

"I know," Juliette said. "I want that too." She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She heard the jangle of the bell that meant someone had entered the shop then the sound of the door being shut. A feeling crept over her, an urging, to get up and move forward.

"Juliette? Juliette? Where are you going?"

There was a voice and a tug on her arm, but they seemed like barely remembered dreams. She walked, or floated maybe, to the door and opened it. The main room of the spice shop seemed to be filled with two beings resplendent with feathers and scales, shimmering like water on sunlight. She kneeled as one approached her. The red eyes held her awestruck gaze as the serpent's tongue flicked in the air around her. She felt no fear, only the desire to please and to serve. The creature hissed and pulled back. "This is not the one," the creature said and began to move away. Juliette felt a deep, burning disappointment. She wanted to be the one, she would do anything to be the one.

There was a growl, a crash, yelling, and a sound like pebbles falling onto a hard surface. Juliette jolted into awareness and looked frantically around. She blinked several times to clear her vision, then Nick was in front of her, taking her hand and helping her to stand. Nearby lay a petite woman, no older than 25, with long, lank black hair, a leather jacket, and cowboy boots. On the floor around her were dozens of different colored stones. A few feet away, Monroe was holding a necklace and glaring down at a young man, also with long, black hair. Rosalee was standing at Monroe's side, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles.

"What the hell just happened?" Hank asked as he climbed shakily to his feet and pointed his gun at the man on the ground.

"I felt compelled to come in here," Juliette said, "like I had no choice. I didn't really notice anything else."

Nick aimed his gun at the woman on the floor who lay still except for her eyes which followed Nick's every move. "I followed Juliette in here, where the four of you…," he gestured at his friends, "were all kneeling and staring up at these two—quetzalcoatl, I guess?"

"They told me to shoot you if you moved," Hank said. His grip tightened on his gun.

"I know…" Nick said. "Thanks for not doing that."

"Wasn't any doing of mine," Hank said. "I would have, if Monroe hadn't moved over here so fast and knocked this guy down."

"He was coming at Rosalee," Monroe said. "That shook me out of the trance."

"She waggled her tongue all around me," Juliette said and gestured at the prostrate woman.

"I think she was smelling you," Rosalee said. "Is that right?" she asked the man on the floor. "Is that what you were going to do to me? Are you trying to find out who is pregnant?"

"Yes," the man said. "We wanted to make sure." He looked warily around. "May we stand up?"

"Go ahead—slowly," Hank said. "Don't try anything fancy." The man and woman stood. They were small people, no more than five and a half feet tall, with elegant features, and a quiet dignity about them that commanded attention even without their supernatural influence.

"We cannot 'try anything', " the woman said. "Without the stones, we have very little power."

"So you _were_ looking for power?" Nick said. "Why now?"

"We captured four grimm, one of them European, after the Spaniards came to our cities. We were able to go into hiding for several years before we moved north. In that time, we created enough potion to maintain a minimal amount of power for some centuries. We did not seek to regain the position we once had, we only wished to continue. That is what we wish now. The stones can sustain us for only so long. We will die."

"Wait…" Rosalee said. "You are the same individuals who were in what is now Mexico and Central America—500 years ago?"

"We are," said the man.

"That's…You're _gods_?" Monroe said.

"Monroe," Nick said, "they've only lived that long because they took grimm fetuses and used them in some potion."

"Oh, yeah…that is really rude." Monroe said. "And you won't be getting what you came for."

The man looked hard at Monroe and said, "we never expected the grimm to mate with a wesen. The fetus must be the product of two humans."

Nick seethed. "Well, I'm not sorry to disappoint. How many of you are there?"

"Thirty-seven," said the woman. "There were 173 of us in 1519."

"Why didn't you just make your own offspring?" Rosalee asked. "You may not be immortal, but at least your species wouldn't die out."

The man looked sidelong at the woman. "The potion makes us sterile," he said, "we had used it for many centuries before our cities fell."

"So, if I let you live," Nick said, "are you or another one of your kind going to try this again?"

"We have expended too much energy on this endeavor," the woman said. Both she and the man appeared thin and frail, especially compared to their full forms. They're faces were young, but their eyes held an intense sorrow. "We will not try again. We had resigned ourselves to die, but then heard that there was a grimm in Portland. We had to try."

"I can't say that I agree." Nick looked over at Hank and lowered his gun. He searched the woman, then the man. He took their wallets and a long knife that had been inside of the man's jacket.

"Well, Tlalli and Atl, are these your current addresses?" Nick asked, looking at their identification.

"Yes," Tlalli said. "We settled here long ago, we do not wish to leave."

Nick handed the wallets to Rosalee and asked her to write down any important information. She took the wallets behind the counter and did as she was asked, then brought them back to Nick.

"Are you the only existing group of quetzalcoatl that you know of?"

"Yes," the man said.

"There's nothing we can charge you with and I don't feel inclined to kill you. I'll be keeping the knife though." Nick said and returned their wallets. "I hope that we never see you again, and if for some reason you try to come after me again or my friends…"

"We will not," Tlalli said. "We will allow time to take us." She looked around at the occupants of the room as if surveying a group of disappointing subjects. Her eyes rested briefly on Nick before she took Atl's hand and walked briskly out the door.

"Okay," Juliette said after a long, stunned silence. "That was amazing. I could see them…they were amazing."

"I'll say," Hank said, "but I didn't like that whole lack of free will stuff. You didn't feel that, Nick?"

Nick raised his eyebrows. "I didn't feel inclined to kneel."

"It's sad," said Rosalee. "The loss…"

"Of _self control,"_ Monroe said insistently. "It's not a good thing." He and Nick looked at each other. Juliette could see the acknowledgement between them and a determination that she didn't understand. She knew that their experience with the first potion (the sex potion, not the fetus potion) had changed their relationship. They touched each other more—casual touches, that indicated an ease between them that had not been there before. Their friendship seemed stronger. Juliette might have been worried about it, except that her own relationship with Nick had been expanding and strengthening as well.

"I know what you mean, Rosalee," Juliette said. The shimmering beauty of feathers and scales came to her mind along with the crushing disappointment she had felt. For a fraction of a second, there had been a god, and a purpose, and a conception that had never occurred. "It seems like there's always loss."

"Are we still on for dinner?" Hank asked. "I'm hungry."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 

Three weeks later, Nick was running through the woods outside of Portland, only a few yards behind his prey. He put on a burst of speed and pounced. They rolled several times before Nick was able to pin the creature to the ground. The creature growled and shifted to a human visage. Nick jerked away from the face but strong arms held him close.

"Hey, hey Nick, it's me," Monroe said.

Nick shook away the memory of holding Monroe down on the floor of his bedroom. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," he said.

Monroe gently pulled Nick towards him, stuck his nose in Nick's hair and breathed in slowly. "It's okay, you're okay," Monroe said. Nick lay still while Monroe sniffed his hair and his neck. After a couple of minutes, Monroe pushed at Nick's chest. "You can get up now, man." Nick stood, then reached down and helped Monroe up.

"Thanks," Monroe said and picked a leaf off of Nick's shoulder. "Sorry," he added and pulled his hand away. Monroe sometimes showed embarrassment at needing Nick to ground him, but Nick had gotten used to it. He even felt that the nonthreatening physical closeness had helped him to deal with his horror at having assaulted Monroe. It had also made it easier to accept and eventually enjoy physical contact with Juliette again. He couldn't feel grateful for what the quetzalcoatl's potion had done to him, but he did feel grateful for some of the consequences. His trust in Monroe had only deepened and there was a surety in his relationship with Juliette that hadn't been there in a long time.

Nick smirked at Monroe and pulled a leaf out of his unruly hair. "Turn around," he said, "let me brush off your back."


End file.
